I’m in Pie Heaven…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Welcome to my retrospective journal of our trip earlier this year to New Zealand.

Celia of  Sydenham Bakery in Christchurch New Zealand,  is showing me around the working  areas of the bakery.

I tell her that pies are a firm favourite of ours but that since they are not an item that features in Dutch cuisine that I’ve been attempting to make some myself at home, with limited success to date.

One problem that I have is that I can’t find little metal pie forms in the Netherlands, so Celia gives me an address of a catering supplier in Christchurch where I can buy some of the little forms to take home with me.

I did pick some up, they look exactly like these ones do and they are fabulous to use but you have to be very careful because the top edge is very sharp:

…that’s deliberate because once you have lined your pie form with pastry, filled it and placed the top on, all you have to do is to roll your rolling pin over the pie form and the sharp edge cuts and trims any overlapping pastry for you and results in a lovely uniform edge.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I can however attest to the fact that these sharp edges will also cut very nicely into fingers whilst doing the washing up, so baking these with kids would have certain limitations.

The bakery of course bake hundreds of pies per day so their pie forms have been welded into joined sheets so that  dozens can be baked in commercial ovens at a time.

Of course I know there’s no chance of scoring a recipe but after talking to Celia I realise that one of the things I’ve been doing wrong with my pies is that I’ve been using shortcrust pastry for both the top lid and the bottom shell,  when it should be shortcrust for the bottoms and puff pastry for the lid on the top.

Naturally not having a proper pie form also means that it’s no surprise that my versions haven’t been cooking very evenly and that I haven”t  yet got past the problem of the dreaded “soggy bottom”  in my pastry making,  although I did read in one of my cookbooks that baking pies on a rack closer to the bottom of the oven should help with this problem too.  In the meantime I’m in pie heaven… just look at the pie production going on here!  From production to the pie warmers out in the shop front so that customers and come and buy one that’s already hot…   Fabulous!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sydenham Bakery: History With Cream On Top…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Welcome to my retroactive journal documenting our tour of New Zealand, this secton of which was made in January 2012.

Yesterday I explained the personal memories that form my connection with the Sydenham Bakery  in Christchurch New Zealand.

Now I’m back inside and looking at many familiar New Zealand bakery items.

Yes, we are back to drooling over photos of amazing displays of food … but come on, before you berate me: that’s not new on this blog is it ?

More memories flood back as they always will when you remember iced buns or anything filled with cream and the childish sticky fingers that just needed licking after eating, or the dusting of icing sugar that I managed to spill down my front … this one still being as bad a habit now as it was then, and sadly I need to confess that I’ve also extended this particular bad habit  to other foods like pasta sauce (who am I kidding?… if I’m honest…anything with sauce!) and soup as an adult.

The founder of the bakery, John Kuipers came to Christchurch from the Netherlands at roughly the same time as my Father did…

… they came for work opportunities on the other side of the world and plane fares were so expensive and sea journeys took so long that it was more or less seen as a one-way ticket with little or no prospect (before the advent of cheap long-haul flights) of ever returning to the Netherlands.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Their new lives in New Zealand were  therefore  ”make or break” and they worked hard to make their businesses work.

There was a study done a while back in New Zealand on why Dutch immigrants of this time made such a high percentage of successful businesses… and apparently it was partly this “there’s no going back” attitude and also the simple fact that people who are prepared to emigrate so far from home into the unknown, are in general already the type of people who are willing to take a larger amount of risk than their peers.

The ingrained Dutch Calvinist work ethic probably helped too LOL.

Regular readers will know that I’m a big fan of supporting and promoting smaller local businesses, which are also often family run establishments and since I also love local history, here’s a dollop of both in one hit… for me finding both together is like the cream on the top of the cream bun… it makes the whole experience even more delectable.

I talk to Celia about the business and notice there’s a nice display about the history of the business on the wall… I couldn’t get close enough to get really good detail but here’s the text (reproduced with permission).

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

It was 1958 when John Kuipers left Holland to start a new life in Christchurch, New Zealand.

He arrived with 30 pounds  in his pocket and a determination to pursue his love of baking.

After working in Linwood bakery for two years, he realised his dream of owning his own bakery, purchasing the Sydenham Cake kitchen at 458 Colombo Street on 1 September 1960.

The cake kitchen has previously been known as “Matthews” and had opened back in 1910.

John began in 1961 with a little money and a big loan. Turnover in the first week was 120 pounds a week and withing four weeks it was up to 240 pounds a week.

With one shop assistant, Connie Sharp and a part-timer in the bakehouse, Beverley Brewer, John worked long hours starting at 2 in the morning and finishing at 5 at night.

Hans, John’s son joined the staff in 1978 and Paul MacGibbon began as an apprentice in 1982. The following year, with the bakery bursting at it’s seams, John purchased the present site at 424 Colombo Street.

Tragedy struck in 1985 when a fire took hold and completely destroyed the bakery at 458 Colombo Street. With 24 hours the staff were operating from premises at Sandyford Street and within 18 months a new bakery was set up at 424 Colombo Street and business returned to normal.

In 2002, at the age of 65, John decided it was time to retire and Hans took told of the reins. Paul then joined Hans in partnership in 2008.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

So… This is “Front of House” as far as the bakery is concerned.. but I have a treat in store, because I get to go ‘out the back” where the best of the action really is…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Kaikoura Icons, They Paint a Picture…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sitting eating our fish and chips in Hine’s Fish and Chip shop gives not just a view of the main street that leads to the waterfront, but also across the road, where we can see part of yet another mural.

Himself had dropped us off in the main street earlier and then gone to find a parking space and by happenchance the van was parked just around the corner from this mural so it wasn’t any distance out of our way to go and check this out.

The mural has been painted onto the side of a factory shop and depicts the iconic scenes and items for which Kaikoura is famous.

In the background of the mural stands the Seaward Kaikoura mountain range,  with part of the Inland Kaikoura mountain range peeking out from behind since both sets of mountains are parallel to each other.

In summer they are beautiful enough, but in winter with a capes of white snow down to low levels they are a stunning backdrop to this little town. In the extreme foreground are the round grey pebbles that make the beach-front here instantly recognisable.

On the right in for foreground a seal stares directly at us, behind the seal the flukes of a whale are emerging out of the water as the whale does a graceful salto in this southern corner of the Pacific Ocean.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sperm whales can be seen in Kaikoura all year round and they are frequently joined by Blue, Pilot, Minke , Beaked, Humpback, Southern Right whales and Orcas too.

To the right of the seal is a pendant in the shape of a Kowhaiwhai , which Māori believe represents the importance of strong and loving family ties. Historically were made out of whalebone but I think that cow bones are used these days.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Between the beach and the sea, to the left of the whale flukes is a  Māori pāua  necklace in the shape of a Koru, a shape that takes it’s inspiration from one of the yet unfurled fronds of the  New Zealand’s silver fern.

Nature knows how to mathematically and aesthetically impress: the form of the silver fern before it begins the unfolding process is a perfect example of the Golden Mean / Golden Ratio .

This is a mathematical ratio of 1 : 1.618, the proportions which are considered to be most one of the most aesthetically pleasing know to man since they represent perfection, perfect balance and divinity.

For Māori the form and symbolism the Koru has great spiritual importance and represents life, awakening, transformation, renewal, peace, harmony, tranquillity, and eternity.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

In the background between the Koru and the large  pāua shell to it’s left,  dolphins play. Bottlenose, Common and Dusky dolphins are all found locally and if you are lucky you might even spot a Hectors dolphin (one of the world’s smallest and rarest) near the mouths of local rivers or by the Haumuri Bluffs.

At the far left of the mural is greenstone pendant,  known as  pounamu in Māori which is a type of  green nephrite jade found in New Zealand’s South Island.

Both greenstone and bone pendants have great spiritual significance too: they are meant to be worn against the skin where they can absorb the spirit of the wearer.The pendant is then passed down through generations, keeping connections with generations past alive and strong.

The twists in the pendant also have meaning: they represent the intertwining of two cultures,  friendships or lives. The loop is continuous so also represents eternal love, friendship or the lifelong bond between cultures.

The large  pāua shell in the mural is of course not just an icon of Kaikoura but also of New Zealand and I’ve written a little bit about it already here:   http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2012/07/21/new-763/

Finally, the seagull that wheels in the blue clear skies is generally typical of any beach anywhere in the world and here in Kaikoura is no exception…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We’ve Found The Seal Pup Crèche! … But They aren’t Playing the Game…

At last we’ve found the place we were trying to find on more than one holiday here (but missed both the trip before this and on this trip on our way north) This post tells all the details: http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2012/03/11/new-633/.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We make our way to the track that the sign-post points to, and begin to follow the stream inland.

After a few gentle twists and turns the relatively flat path begins to climb and then all of the sudden we come across an elevated railway bridge that leads directly into a tunnel.

On the other side of the stream we pass under the rail bridge and are immediately confronted with a steep staircase going up to the right.  There’s hand-rail so I gingerly pick my way up to steps but once at the top I see that the track starts to wind it’s way even further upwards between the trees and the path has shrunk to half the size it was below.

Himself and I look at each other… this is clearly no place for me on my crutches as the path consists of the  uneven and still rising muddy leafy forest floor and  I’m still on the slow road to recovery from my accident I’m in absolutely no hurry to add anything new to my injuries.

Deciding that discretion is the better part of valour I leave Himself to catch up with the kids who have bounded ahead and retreat very carefully back down the steps and start making my way back to the car.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The walk to the waterfall is supposed to take ten minutes but they caught me back up before I had reached the road, apparently having sprinted up the track for five minutes, it got steeper and muddier as they progressed and then they met people coming back down the track who told them that the view of the waterfall was lovely but that they were disappointed because there wasn’t even one baby seal up there at all at the moment.

The kids and Himself had a quick confer and decided that if there were no seal pups up there then they didn’t want to continue so they turned around and came back too.

Finally we know where to find the seal pups, but nature likes to keep a few secrets sometimes, and we weren’t lucky today.

The information sign-board at the entrance of the path reads:

NAU MAI HAERE MAI

Welcome to the takiwa (territory) of Ngati Kuri and this beautiful whenua (land). This block of land is owned by individual whanau (families) of Ngati Kuri who, along with the Department of Conservation, invite you to enjoy this unique wildlife experience.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Kekeno / New Zealand Fur Seal

The seals that you see along the Kaikoura coast are unique to New Zealand and are known to Maori as Kekeno. This coastline with it’s rocky outcrops, nooks and crannies provide excellent breeding habitat protection for young pups from storms that hit the coast.

Population Still Recovering

Seals were hunted around the coasts of New Zealand by Maori and European sealer’s for food and skins. Hunting was banned in 1894 but not before the whole population had almost been completely wiped out. New Zealand fur seals are now making a steady comeback in many parts of the country. The current population is estimated to be approximately be 10-20% of the original population.

Exploring and socialising.

Between April and October these pups explore their surroundings, developing their swimming and social skills. They make their own way up to the waterfall and are not lost.

In the middle of winter over 200 pups can often be seen playing together in the water and resting beside the stream and pool. Seals are highly social and gregarious species, so these early playful antics strengthen important social bonds. This energetic physical activity builds powerful muscles and develops coordination: attributes needed to become effective marine hunters.

Returning to the Coast.

Each spring the number of pups at Ohau stream starts to fall once they are weaned (at about 10 months) .

They then stay on the coast and begin to use the skills they developed here to hunt for food at sea.  At four years old females join the breeding colony. Males will remain in the area but will not breed until the they are least 10 years old when they are  strong enough to win a harem (8-10 females). Fur seals live for about 15 years.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Going on Holiday But Not by Road…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

As we take the Inter-Island ferry between New Zealand’s Wellington and Picton,  we spy something in the Marlborough Sounds that is both typically a New Zealand tradition but also not typical at the same time.

The typical part is the Kiwi  ”Batch”  or holiday home… they are often passed down in families through generations and may or may not necessarily be by the sea side, … but they are often the holiday get-a-way for choice for many Kiwis.

All Kiwi’s will know what a  ”Batch” is but some might be caught off guard in the south of the South Island where the Scottish settler influence of a century ago has given their holiday homes a completely different name: they go on holiday to the “Crib“

The atypical part of  the Batches found throughout the Marlborough Sounds is that a large percentage of them have no road access to them at all …they are accessible only by boat and were built with materials bought in by boat.

There is the solitary Kenepuru  Road that traverses up of Mahau Sound as far the Endeavour Inlet, but anything further north, east or west and the entire Pelorus Sound and the vast extended area that encompasses hundreds, if not thousands of tiny inlets and bays have no roads at all. Let’s take a look at just a few of the Batches  that peep out from some of the bays….

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

All My Life I’ve Been Deceived, But it’s Not THIS ONE That will Make You Cry….

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The twists and turns of  the Akatarawa Valley Hill Road were eventually a little too much for Kiwi Daughter and my stomachs to handle.

Fortunately before we got greener than the surrounding scenery, we found a clearing at the top of one of the main peaks and overlooking the Upper Hutt side of the hills where we could stop and take a breather.

In front and to the side of us was a thick stand of  Toi Toi.

When I wanted to look up the genus name of the plant, and found myself on the Wikipedia site, I discovered that “toi toi (or “toitoi”) is a common misspelling of it’s actual name “Toetoe”.

I’ll apologise to the purists  right now for the fact the “toitoi” has been my favourite name for this plant all my life and that since “toetoe” just doesn’t do it for me and I quite liked my blissful ignorance,  I’ll be continuing to happily misspell it as “toitoi” (well, at least until I get over the shock that my favourite name is all wrong).

I did find the genus, for gardeners amongst you  it’s “Austroderia”  and Wiki also told me that “Pampas Grass”, have been introduced to New Zealand and are often mistaken for toetoe. These introduced species tend to take over from the native toetoe and are regarded as invasive weeds. 

Among the differences between Pampas, Toetoe has a drooping flower head, a cream coloured plume and the leaves do not break when tugged firmly. Toetoe also has a white, waxy bloom on the leaf-sheath and conspicuous veins between the midrib and leaf margin.”

Now I’m squinting at the photographs my computer screen trying to figure out if these white plumes are white enough, or if they are actually cream.  Ugh, these botanical dudes certainly know how to play tricks on you sometimes.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Let’s assume this stuff  isn’t pampas grass and get back to Wiki:  ”The Māori used the toetoe leaves to make baskets, kites, mats, wall linings and roof thatching. It was also used to make containers to cook food in hot springs. The flower stalks were also useful – as frames for kites, and in tukutuku panelling.

The seed heads themselves were used on fresh wounds to stop bleeding. Other medicinal uses included treatment of diarrhoea, kidney complaints, and burns. Toetoe is New Zealand’s largest native grass, growing in clumps up to 3m in height.“

I do remember that my Father used to do battle with a giant toitoi / toetoe  in our garden planted with native bush when we moved to the city, other kids who came to visit used to complain when it got big and obstructed the path that it was too scratchy and a few called it “cutty” grass, but we considered them to be soft city wimps. Obviously they had never met the infamous  High Country Spear Grass which was really  something to cry about if you landed in it or brushed past it.

I wrote a post on experiences of  Speargrass here…  http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2010/05/19/new-4/

I know that in some parts the toitoi/ toetoe  is pretty much a weed, but there’s my problem… it’s pretty,  it’s a Native plant and come on, on the positive side, it’s not the dreaded non-native Gorse that is slowing choking the life out of the South Island’s High Country.

My Father also battled other interlopers in that city garden, from the Convolvulus that managed to break gaps though the sealed driveway, the rampant ivy that gained entry over the fence, and the tortured willow that was clearly so named because it spent time torturing my Father by growing back to massive heights in spite of repeated uses of a chainsaw as close to ground level as possible.

I never saw the toitoi / toetoe as a problem, I like its feather-like fronds waving in the wind. I love the delicacy and the detail…  and as you know I’m a sucker for detail. (sigh) That’s probably why I’m a sucker for toitoi.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Surely We MUST Be Seeing Things!….

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Family Kiwidutch were driving down the main street of Foxton, when all of a sudden Himself starts to laugh.

I’m taking photos out of the front window but was distracted by the general view so didn’t  at first see what he had seen: a strange but familiar spike-like shape behind the chemist shop on the right hand side of the street.

I keep clicking as we advance, unaware until I saw the photos on the computer screen why Himself was laughing so hard, until the van reached a point where the  object of Himself’s mirth was simply unmissable: there’s a massive windmill right in the heart of  this small New Zealand town!

For Dutch people to find something like this so far from The Netherlands is a little surreal… did we really  sit on a plane for twenty-four hours to see something so kitchly Dutch staring at us in the New Zealand landscape? Apparently so… the whole family are now laughing as we pull into a side street and then a car parking area next door so that we can take  a closer look.

Sure enough, it’s a real windmill… and totally Dutch in a rather over-the-top kind of way.

The sign on the door says “de Molen” ( the mill) and inside there is a small shop that sells an array of Dutch sweets, baked goods and a few general Dutch groceries as well as flour milled by this, a working  flour mill. There is some blue and white porcelain and rather touristic figurines of the Dutch boy and girl kissing (does anyone actually ever  buy these?) and books on wooden shoes and windmills.

Himself and I joke about buying relatives some of the items for sale…  but decide that would just be a little too weird, so  instead ask the lady behind the counter  questions about how this rather severely transplanted windmill  came to be so far from home.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We learn that the Mill’s first stone was laid in 2000 but it was officially opened in 2003. That said, planning, fundraising and construction had been taking place over the ten years prior to this.

There were some local émigré Dutchmen who had this idea on their wishlist for many years, since they felt like it would be a good tourist attraction for the town and because the area of drained and stop-banked pasture land just down the road  reminded them strongly of the drained and dyked polders they had left behind in their homeland.

It’s possible to go upstairs and see the working parts of the mills, but the kids are getting restless and hungry.

Himself doesn’t think it’s a good idea to let Little Mr. see it because he’s terrible at listening and can’t keep his fingers off machinery, and I have no intention of negotiating stairs on crutches of the type I know are found in windmills. We have fun looking around and can’t stop smiling at just how ludicrous this feels, but mind you, it does bring in tourists!

The biggest laugh of them all came when we were on our way out of the door and came face to face with a Dutch couple coming in!  They were speaking Dutch as they arrived and were rather taken aback when we started speaking to them in Dutch as well (greetings).

A quick chat revealed that they were a retired couple who were combining a tour of  New Zealand with visits to  relatives who had emigrated in the 1960′s and that they too were so taken aback by the presence of a windmill here, that like us they pulled over to investigate.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Art? Putting your Best Foot Forward! (or Leaving it Behind?)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Ok, it’s official, this must be the funniest section of road in New Zealand.

I didn’t have to start gushing excitedly into Himself’s ear for our next roadside stop because everyone in our car was going “Wow, look at that!“, “Whoa, that’s really funny!”,

“Hey! Look at all those shoes!“, “Mama, look you have to blog about this!”

It’s hard to miss… somewhere on the north side of Foxton  you will find this: a Jandal fence.

Yet another U-turn later we are parked on the side of the road and I’m taking photos of this unlikely sight.

The Jandals are all colours, in extreme conditions of age and wear  (many look totally new), and appear to come from different countries too (at least I saw one pair with “Australia” printed onto it.)  Is it Art? … or just fun? … a rural tourist attraction? … or do the inhabitants of the next farm have a ridiculously mega-enormous family and this is their equivalent of “shoes by the back door?”

Who knows, but it’s there and it manages to stop passing visitors like us and added to the smiles we have already collected  in our travels today.

As a New Zealand icon and part of my “Kiwiana” series I’ve already made a post featuring Jandals:  http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/?s=jandals , but as iconic as they are,  it’s safe to say that  I never expected to see a rural fence full of them!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Pōhutukawa… a Very Special Christmas Tree…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

One reoccurring memory of my childhood is that during the hot southern hemisphere Summer we could be found celebrating Christmas Day on a sheep station… or in small township close to it.

Even after we moved to the city we still de-camped each Christmas to a friends sheep station and so we never had a Christmas Tree decorated in the traditional sense until I moved here to The Netherlands.

That’s not to say we didn’t have a Christmas Tree at all though, the difference is simply that since the South Island’s High country is mostly tussock grass, thorny Matagouri,  (also a.k.a.”wild Irishman“)  which is a devilish bush full of thorns (some of them easily several centimetres in length) that can turn tramping (hiking) over steep high country mountains into an art form of unintended detours as you try and find a route to evade the stuff rather than to be scratched to death painfully wading though it.

Against best advice from elders, as a teenager I attempted wading though a Matagouri stand of  only  knee high bushes once and only once… it was more than enough to convince me that even stupidly long detours were well worth the effort.

However the Matagouri has several redeeming features:  On a botanical level, it is able to “fix nitrogen” from the air and enrich the poor soils it grows in. In fact they “give back” so much nutrition into the soil that they allow other less hardy plants  to live and thrive around them.

The Matagouri is very slow growing  too and can easily live long past 100 years of age.  They flower  around November but for some reason the ones near us flowered, or were still in flower  in December so we would carefully pluck off a few of the best floral branches (yes, I know that in the North Island Matagouri  is a protected species because it’s so rare, but in the South Island it grows like a weed, and anyway when I was a kid we didn’t know anything about “protected species” ).

The next “decoration” for our Christmas tree was either some lovely red Rata  or  Manuka flowers, (also see post: http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2010/06/02/new-post-96/  ) or even better if the weather was kind,  a  few  Pōhutukawa tree flowers.  Some tiny pockets of the High Country have micro climates and whilst  Pōhutukawa are generally found in the North Island there some in secluded parts of the South Island too.

Usually the Fates were less than kind and the  Pōhutukawa wouldn’t be in flower for long enough, so we would make do with Rata which was around in great profusion but the rare sightings of  Pōhutukawa meant that it remained special to me and I was surprised when later in life I saw large groups of them in the North Island.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

As a terrible gardener, I have usually not too much interest in non-food plants, but these New Zealand flowering Natives have always had a special place in my heart.

Once our “decorations” had been gathered the next step was to find a suitable pine tree in the plantation.

The Radiata Pines are wind-blown self-seeded pines for the most part, their height and fast growing properties making them excellent shelter-belts against the notorious hot dry Nor’west winds, but they are also an interloper that choke out New Zealand Natives without shame or guilt so felling  them for winter  firewood was never done with any remorse.

But no chain-saw or axe for our Christmas Tree,  instead, after picking out the smallest one on the edge of the plantation , it stayed happily growing in the ground as we added our floral decorations to it and then stood back and admired our handiwork. If there were wild flowers around they got woven into daisy-chains and added too. Sometimes we would find a larger branch that a Nor’ West storm had  ripped from a bigger tree and we would cart that back to the house, and decorate in the the same manner on the front lawn. (well, less “front lawn”and more “front paddock”).

The interesting thing was that the branch and it’s decorations always stayed outside. I  didn’t find out about the “inside” tree tradition with baubles etc until much much later.

So here we are in the North Island with  Pōhutukawa sightings at regular intervals, so I’m happy to take photos of a flower that I love but was a rarity in my South Island youth.

It brings back memories from my childhood and it’s even more significant that since the Pōhutukawa flowers in mid-December (more or less depending on weather and the trees geographical location) that it’s earned itself the nickname of  being  the “New Zealand Christmas tree”.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Pinetree Lives Here, and You Really CAN call Him Tree!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We are heading south today in the direction of  New Plymouth, the weather is good and we get a very early start.

The idea is to get some kilometres behind us and then find somewhere interesting to stop for breakfast.

One of the places we pass through is Te Kuiti and I wasn’t at all surprised to see references  in the town to it’s most famous son: Colin Meads.

Even if, (like me)  you don’t particularly follow New Zealand’s national sport of  Rugby, you would still surely know that Colin Earl Meads (born 1936) is regarded as one of the best players in rugby history.

Nicknamed ”pinetree Meads” he was born in the Waikato but was raised on the family farm in Te Kuiti where he credited the hard physical labour of farm work for building up his renowned strength, strong physique and high level of  fitness.

Meads played 55 test matches (133 total games), most frequently in the lock forward position, for the  national team the All Blacks, from 1957 until 1971.One of Meads’ sons, Glynn  (nicknamed “‘Pinecone’ Meads) also went on to play rugby for the King Country region.

His strength and high threshold for pain became legendary — best illustrated when in a game against Eastern Transvaal in South Africa, in which he emerged from a particularly vicious ruck with his arm dangling horribly and obvious fracture, yet completed the match. When the doctor cut away his shirt and confirmed the break, Meads muttered, “At least we won the bloody game.”  

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Meads had the reputation of being “an enforcer” and was involved in some controversial incidents. In 1967, he was sent off by Irish referee  for dangerous play against Scotland at Murrayfield, and became only the second All Black suspended in a test match.

The British Daily Telegraph newspaper said of the incident that ‘For once with Meads’ worldwide reputation for robust play, “this was rather like sending a burglar to prison for a parking offence.”

The trophy contested in New Zealand’s domestic competition, the Heartland Championship, is named the Meads Cup in his honour.

The All Blacks website states ‘As a sporting legend Meads is New Zealand’s equivalent of Australia’s Sir Donald Bradman or the United States of America’s Babe Ruth.’

I just knew that Rugby would be considered ” the only real sport” in a place like Te Kuiti, but as someone who hails from a family with European influences and therefore a football fan I still had to laugh out loud when I saw the following sign on the roadside.  (my photo is a little blurry since it’s taken from the moving car) but it says:  ”Welcome to Meadsville , leave all soccer balls in the bins provided“.

In true Kiwi fashion Meads retains his sense of  down to earth informality and in line with his preference, locals call him either ‘Meads”or “Tree” when they see him.

I also see from another sign that Te Kuiti  is the “(sheep) Shearing Capital of the World”..  Haha ! wow Who Knew?!

We smile too at the Christmas good wishes in a paddock… and at the area’s version of the “Big Apple”… Let’s look around…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)